Pornstache
by TWDwalker5
Summary: Before the apocalypse, everybody knew Simon by a different name.


**Alright, so this is a one shot about our favourite right-hand man. And no, it's not Dwight. Get outta here.**

 **This is filthy as hell compared to the other stuff write. Be warned.**

 **I tried to make this funny because it's the only way I could carry on typing.**

There's a herd of costume design guys running in the direction I am walking in. A couple of producers walk by with lollipops in their hands, arguing over the script. I look at the one I am holding again, raising an eyebrow at the title: Rock Hard Ballad.

No idea how they came up with this, but it beats Caramel Camel Toe and Cock Frosting.

Just a couple of embarrassing movies I have starred in. At least the pay is good.

"Rachel! Rachel, darling," a British accent waltzes towards me, coffee cup in one hand and the other one already gripping my shoulder, "What are you doing here, sweetheart? Didn't John tell you where to be?"

"Erm, actually-"

"Well, that's alright. That wanker has another thing coming. He's already messed up the sodding music. The whole thing is falling apart. Don't worry, darling. Go into costume. I'll be with you shortly. Say, are you on the pill?"

I manage a nod, trying to catch onto a single word he is saying. They fly by so fast that I'm left repeating the 'conversation' in my head once he is long gone.

I fold the script in half and shove the 2-page document into the back pocket of my jeans. When I walk further down the building, it becomes more evident that this is a porn-movie set. There is a tanned Barbie woman sitting on a marble bench, massaging her boobs at two guys, who are watching: fascinated. Is she trying to get one of the parts?

My heart starts hammering against my ribs once I see my co-star. Holy shit. Be cool. Be cool. You've watched all his movies. If he notices that you have a crush on him, this shit will just embarrass you. Why did I think I can work with him? He is Simon. The famous Simon. Or as some people like to call him: Pornstache.

He is wearing a silk blue robe that comes down to his ankles, a big smile on his face. I follow his eyes and notice he is talking to a woman in a suit. Okay, well at least she isn't naked. It might sound crazy, but I've never been comfortable with naked women. Therefore, I always go for straight sex. It can get boring, but it's better than having an anxiety attack on camera.

My hair falls over my eyes and I brush it away. There are gaps in this building, which are supposed to reflect a Gladiator sort of vibe. I still don't know what costume I am wearing. Hopefully no sandals or anything stupid like that.

I look up to see beautiful art on the ceiling. Maybe this place was expensive as hell to rent. That's why they went with Simon for the lead. At least then, they would be certain he would bring the big bucks in.

"Rachel, darling, are you still here?" I am grabbed from behind and dragged to the costume department, "Alright, come on. Let's see how you look in this."

He tosses the smallest black lingerie set at me along with a pair of stockings. I raise an eyebrow at the hole that has been cut in the fabric, "Erm… this isn't very Gladiator looking."

"It's a Gladiator building, but it doesn't mean the horny couple inside are Gladiators."

I smile slightly as the man sips his coffee, "And the horny couple is me and-"

"Yes, yes. You and Simon. Now put that outfit on, sweetheart. We don't have long."

I suck it up and strip off my everyday clothes before sliding into the stockings and underwear set. It's pretty tight and it pushes my small boobs up to my chin. I can barely breathe. Figures this is what I'd have to wear for a big-budget film.

"Perfect!" the accent claps at me, "I'll call in the make-up and they'll be able to sort you out."

He disappears quickly, leaving me alone in the dimly lit room, looking at my own reflection. I groan and start pushing my bangs from my forehead, looking over the eyeliner I put on this morning. They'll wipe that off. Might as well make a start.

There is a pink robe hanging on the door and I slip it over my shoulders to cover the hideousness underneath. I pick up a make-up wipe and scrub at my eyes, hearing laughter and moaning in the background.

This job, and then I'm retiring. Fuck the whole industry.

A knock on the door startles me. Nobody ever knocks around here. I sigh and walk over to the handle, pulling it back.

The first thing I see is the moustache. Then the small smile. And then his raised eyebrows.

"Are you Rachel?"

"Y-Yes," I say, stepping back, "Would you like to come in?"

"That's very kind of you," he chuckles, stepping into the room, "I'm Simon."

I laugh nervously when I shake his hand, "Yes… I know who you are."

"I am flattered, Rachel," he puts a hand on his chest. Holy shit. Half of it is visible now. I wonder if he is naked underneath, "I wanted to come and say hi before I had to fuck your brains out."

I laugh again. Okay, stop being weird.

"That wouldn't have been very gentlemanly, would it?"

"It's nice to meet you," I should stop smiling now. He could get so creeped out that he'd choose to fuck my understudy instead. Yes, the porn industry has understudies.

Simon glances around the room before tucking his hands into the robe pockets. I see a faint hint of a hot pink speedo underneath. Okay, maybe this movie isn't about Gladiators.

"Can I ask what costume they gave you? I don't want to get anything wrong," he goes over to the vanity unit, picking an apple from the fruit basket that was already in here when I came.

I raise an eyebrow, starting to untie my robe, "You get to have a say in costumes?"

He smiles gently and takes a bite, "Technically not, no. But if I get real persuasive, they'll start bending the rules a little."

Huh. What the hell. It's not like I'm happy with what I am wearing anyway.

At that point the director comes in with the British guy, stopping beside the door to let the make-up girls through, "There you all are! Positions in five."

Ha, he said positions.

No matter how many times you read the script, half of it is improvised anyway. That's why I didn't bother with it this time.

The girls push me into a chair and start brushing me like a monkey, applying some lip-gloss to my pouting lips. I decide to open my robe when Simon stands in front of me.

He scowls, shaking his head, "No, no. This won't do."

The guys stand there awkwardly, faking smiles, "What… What's wrong?"

"You dressed her like some kind of whore. It's completely wrong for her character."

I am smug in the chair, watching the two main guys blink in surprise.

Simon leads one of the girls away from me when she's about to start on my eye make-up, "Woah, whoa, whoa. No, no. No eyeliner. None of that tacky bullshit. Make her look cute."

I cross my legs as he fixes the bra strap on my shoulder. Looks like I won't need any lube for this fucking job. I am wet by a single touch.

"Oh!" Simon raises his hands, clicking his fingers, "Get her that, er… that pink, pale pink nightie. The silk one. It'll suit her. It'll suit you, won't it, doll?" he leans down to my level and I nod quickly, "Great! Go, go ahead."

The British asshole and the director run out of the room like their wigs are on fire. I smile at Simon when he folds his arms, watching me get dolled up.

I don't mind wearing a nightie at all. At least in that, my boobs will be able to breathe.

After the make-up bitches rush out of the room, I turn in the chair to look in the mirror. This gentle approach really suits me. Without the dark contour and eye make-up, my face is more round. The blush will match the nightie and the lip-gloss makes me seem… clean.

Simon is stroking his moustache in the reflection, proud of his creation, "That's perfect, sweetheart. I gotta say, nothing crushes my boner more than silicone and desperation."

I snort, laughing as he uses the chair to support his weight. I hear it crack slightly as it tilts backwards.

Somebody barges in behind me with the costume, handing it over to Simon. The guy leaves quickly and slams the door shut, shoving a whiff of air into my back, "Here, sweetheart."

I stand up and take the nightie, the fabric almost slipping out of my hands, "Okay, give me a second."

He turns around and starts looking over the posters on the walls as I change. It's silly because in about one minute, he will be balls deep in this bitch.

I check myself out in the mirror before telling him that it's okay to look. His smile widens under the moustache, nodding, "You look gorgeous."

I feel stupid for blushing and look down. It's just how he is. There are no strings attached.

He steps closer, grabbing my shoulders and running his hands down my arms. It's clear that his eyes are focused on my nipples that anyone can see from miles away. I never had big boobs, but he doesn't seem to mind. He even goes as far as changing my costume for me to get comfort over looks.

I peek up from underneath my bangs, seeing that smile is still on his lips. Gosh, he is tall. I am almost two heads lower than him.

"Do you need a quick warm-up?" he leans down slightly to look at me, "I doubt we'll get much time once the cameras are rolling."

I am fucking soaking wet. A warm-up would be called an orgasm if he touches me right now.

"Erm, no, I think I'll be fine," I smile politely. He's too nice. I've had pricks in the past who would tear into me without a warning. It would hurt afterwards. In a bad way.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" he licks one of his digits before lowering it down to my core. I gasp when he presses it against me, chuckling against my hair, "Oh, yes. You don't need much warming-up, do you?"

I let my mouth hang open as he pulls his fingers away slowly. Fuck. Thank God I ain't a man. I'd be fired.

He kisses my cheek before starting to lead me out of the room, "Don't worry. Once you see these speedos, you'll lose your boner."

I burst out laughing, holding onto him as he leads me to the cameras.

There is a king-sized bed in the middle of this enormous building and the circle of cameras and crew. I notice that the sheets are pale pink, just like my nightie. Wow, who would have thought Simon had an eye for aesthetics? Now that I think about it, his speedo is a shade of pink too.

I watch as everyone crowds him, brushing his cheeks with powder. He makes himself tall and tilts his head to the ceiling, closing his eyes. I can't hear what he is saying from here but everyone else seems to be repeating these phrases:

 _Not too much bronzer._

 _Get me that light. Hit him with the light._

 _Would you like me to hold your script, sir?_

I laugh quietly and sit on the edge of the bed, smirking as one of the make-up girls walks up to me and does a shit job at making sure I am ready for the performance. I roll my eyes and cross my legs.

It is clear to see who is the star of the movie. I never knew men could be so pampered.

"Do you need to run through your script, darling?" the accent hollers at me.

"I think I'll be okay."

My words are dripping with sarcasm but he doesn't even notice. How much script do I really need? Seriously.

Once Simon waves everyone off, they all get into position. I fold my arms as a breeze passes my legs and see that there is space under the bed.

"Alright, you know the drill," the director yells, hiding behind his Gucci sunglasses, "Grab her face. Push her down. Fuck her from the front. Fuck her from behind. And don't forget to lift her up occasionally, so we can see her tits."

If this wasn't a porn movie, this would be illegal. I am used to it. It's not like anybody means harm anyway.

Simon smiles and discards his robe, throwing it at one of the crew members. My eyes drift down to his ridiculous speedo. He was right. My boner is gone.

"Are you alright to start, sweetheart?" he tucks his thumbs in his underwear, snapping the elastic.

"Yep," I feel a stone in my stomach. I am more nervous than I thought I was going to be. He lifts my legs and places them on the bed, making sure to let his hand linger on one of my thighs.

"If you need to stop, say the word," he gets on his knees as the cameras start rolling and the director yells ' _Action!_ '.

I forget that I am supposed to act when he pulls down the speedo. His member is exactly what I thought it was going to be. Unreasonably perfect.

I glance at the crew who are focused on looking through the lenses of the cameras. The guy with the microphone comes closer and drops the furry thing directly above my head. It's like they are eavesdropping on a private moment. I look back at Simon.

He strokes his moustache before grabbing my chin gently, "Did you really think you could get away with making fun of me like that?"

For a second I have no idea what he is talking about, until I remember the next line is mine.

"Erm…" I clear my throat, "No, sir. My friends are I just wanted to have a bit of fun. It was a harmless prank."

"Harmless? Even when I got covered in all that oil and stood there without any clothes? Does that sound harmless to you?"

I told you this movie was a load of crap. The script makes me smirk, but it's okay because my character is allowed that. I see the humour in Simon's eyes. He is trying not to laugh.

"No, sir. I was a very bad girl."

"Mhmm, yes you were," the deep rumble in his throat gives me my boner back. I bite my lip when he leans down to place a kiss on my neck. His lips are hot and he isn't afraid to graze his teeth over my earlobe. I shudder slightly, feeling his cock press against my thigh.

"Wh-What are you doing? You're my uncle."

Simon chuckles slightly, hiding his face from the cameras with the help of my hair, "The DNA test was wrong."

"Could it be?" I pretend to be shocked and lay all the way down as he crawls on top of me.

"Stop talking," he says.

Thankfully, the dialogue ends there. The hard part is over. I sigh in relief and watch as he trails kisses down my chest, while his hands run up under the nightie.

I let myself a glance at the director to see that he is on his phone. Weirdly, that calms me down. The fact that one less person is looking.

"So fucking gorgeous," I hear Simon whisper when his mouth is on my thighs. That wasn't in the script.

I do the only thing I can and grab the hem of my nightie, lifting it up to just below my chest. Simon groans at the sight of me. He climbs between my legs and attaches his mouth to my pulsing core.

Holy shit. It's happening.

I bite my lip as I feel his skilled tongue on me. And just like that, I am taken away from the cameras and into a single room where the only people in it are me and Simon. His hands slide up my stomach before retreating down, leaving timid marks of a trail of fingernails.

I clench my fists because it tickles a lot and try not to ruin this moment.

The only thing I see is his head moving between my thighs and it's enough to push me over the edge. My stomach tightens and I grab the bedsheets.

"More vocal work!" the director yells, making me jump. I meet Simon's eyes and then he goes back to eating me out.

That prick definitely made it sexier. Sense my sarcasm.

I open my mouth to moan louder when Simon brings his hand to my pussy. The work of his mouth and fingers simultaneously leaves me sweating in a very cold building. The walls are made from stone, for fuck sake.

He grabs my chin again, but harder. I whimper when he pulls away and climbs over me, "Turn around for me, sweetheart."

I do what I can in the confined space he gives me and wriggle until I am laying on my front. The hums of approval coming from him make my thighs jolt. Just fuck me already.

I turn to look at him over my shoulder and gasp when he grabs my hips, yanking them backwards. His hand comes down on my ass, the sound of a spank echoing through the area. I know from experience that this is the moment one of the cameras is going to zoom in on my cunt.

"Look how fucking wet you are for me," Simon growls, taking handfuls of my ass before spanking me again.

I moan, feeling his fingers run up and down my heat. He strokes himself behind me before lining up at my entrance.

"You are going to pay for that prank you pulled on me, you naughty girl," he hisses.

I smile slightly, looking at him, "Give me all you got, baby."

"Jesus fuck," he whispers, thrusting his hips. I gasp, hips automatically going forward at the feel of his erection. He pulls me back gently, groaning as he fills me up to the hilt. Holy shit. Holy shit.

"Oh, God," I moan, tossing my head back.

"Take my fucking cock," he growls, pulling at my hair.

By the time I finally adjust to his size, I am shrieking from his powerful thrusts. His hands bunch up my nightie as he holds it close to my shoulder blades, giving himself one hell of a view.

The director says something but I don't fucking hear him. Fuck him. Fuck everyone. I am so close.

When Simon pulls out, I am beyond outraged.

He flips me over and tugs me to the edge of the bed until I am on the floor, on my knees. I don't take in what is happening most of the time. I was so fucking close. My thighs clench together as I whimper below him.

He smirks at me, stroking his cock, "Suck it, darling."

His voice is so low; I wonder how the sound guy is picking all this up. I like to think that the dirty talk is just for me. Nobody else.

Obediently, I open my mouth and get to work. He doesn't force me to go too fast or too rough, which is greatly appreciated. In fact, I'll show him just how appreciated it is.

He doesn't expect me to take him all the way down my throat, but I do. From below, I watch the muscles in his neck tense and his chest rise and fall rapidly.

His eyes meet mine when I slide a hand up his abdomen. Damn, that is firm.

He grabs it gently, intertwining our fingers. The gesture catches me off guard and I pull away until he is out of my mouth. He winks playfully which is when I decide to take him back in.

For the first time, I hear the director yelling instructions at Simon. He grabs my hair and moves my head in rhythm with his hips as a string of curse words leaves his mouth.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

I moan in encouragement, knowing that we still have around thirty minutes of filming left. He tries to pull my head back gently. His eyebrows furrow and I close my eyes, blocking out all his signals.

"Sweetheart, I said I'm…" he groans, at a loss for words. I know what he is about to do because he called me 'sweetheart'. He is trying to get my attention. Tough shit.

His hot semen fills my mouth in seconds and I moan as he holds my chin in place.

It's a bit awkward for everyone, really. I swallow and pull away from him, giving him my famous wide eyes of 'Oh dear, what happened?'

Simon glances back at the crew when there is nothing left to do.

"Did he just cum?" the director asks in astonishment.

I smirk and nod. Simon looks back down on me. For a second I think that he is going to get mad, but he simply grabs my hands and helps me back on my feet.

Somebody rushes to give him a robe so that he is not the only person in the room who is butt naked.

The director walks up to the bed, pretending to think, "Well, I guess we save the good footage and retake what we didn't see, shall we?"

Simon strokes his moustache, "Sounds good. I'll need a minute."

He pulls me to the side as the crew start fixing the bed and the sheets that I didn't notice fell on the floor.

"Did I make you cum, Rachel?" he asks.

I shake my head as he strokes one side of it.

"Was that revenge?" he doesn't seem mad. He is smiling, "That is clever. You know, they're going to have to take some dough off my pay check for the time we are about to lose."

I didn't feel bad about it before, but now that he says it…

"Oh, shit," I press a hand to my face, "I am so sorry."

"Sorry? No, no, sweetheart. Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

It isn't?

"To be honest, I am kind of relieved. This way, we'll get to spend more time together. Huh?" he pokes my nose and I giggle, looking away, "That's what you were after too, right?"

My stomach flutters when he kisses me for the first time. I press my nose into his moustache, loving the way he envelopes me in his arms.

"What do you say we get a cup of coffee after?" he grins.

I turn into a blushing mess, nodding.

"But before that," he gestures behind him at the bed, "I'd say we got some work to do."


End file.
